


Amaranthine

by Blackberreh



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Panic Attacks, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberreh/pseuds/Blackberreh
Summary: Everything about Madara just felt... different. Something had happened, and Tobirama was going to find out what.Madara was being kind to him. That just wouldn't stand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an... experiment. And I'm posting it at midnight with impaired judgment. Yay for time travel!
> 
> Also I'm going to be playing around with Tobirama having albinism, so please forgive me if things are very not true to real life as I need to do more research.

 

There was a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t go away. It grew and grew, more constricting as each second passed, and Tobirama almost didn’t realise what was happening almost until it was too late. It had been a long, long time since he’d had an attack like this. Back when the clans were still warring against one another, and death was constantly around the corner, before peace was more than just a pipe dream.

The voices around him were too loud. The other clan heads were still trying to work out several budgeting issues - and they were arguing rather than holding any civil conversation - and normally Tobirama would be the voice of reason. It was why he was here in the first place. He would work it out, and usually everyone left the meeting satisfied in some way or another. _He_ was the one with the brains for this, not Hashirama. And while Hashirama was away meeting with the Feudal Lord, it was only right for Tobirama to stand in on meetings like this and make decisions in his stead.

But Tobirama was tired. _Exhausted_ from insomnia and working through the nights in his lab, and from nightmares that only seemed to get worse and worse as the still new Konoha settled into itself and the idea of peace became more and more real. Exhausted from the constant strain of keeping his senses spread out, keeping an eye on the village as a whole, because as time passed and peace grew more tangible, Tobirama was loathe for anything to shatter its tenuous existence - he needed to keep an eye out for any threat that may crop up. To be ready to defend at a moment’s notice.

It was easier when Hashirama was there; ever since they were young, when it wasn’t just _them_ , he’d been a guiding light. A protective embrace. His chakra was so _powerful_ it felt like the sun and the earth and like life itself - an anchor that he could focus on, steady himself on while he did what needed to be done. While he did what Hashirama couldn’t, what he didn’t have the heart for. And what Madara wouldn’t, because he was off _somewhere_ doing _something_ suspicious and there was no Hashirama to assuage Tobirama’s fears.

Hashirama wasn’t here, and Tobirama could feel himself spiralling in a way he hadn’t in years.

He was self aware enough for that at the very least. The thought was laced with bitter amusement.

He wasn’t quite sure what triggered it. The Hyuuga head had started raising his voice to be heard over the Uchiha’s stand in. Someone knocked over a pot of ink and a chair clattered, and then Tobirama spat out an excuse and got out of the room as fast as he could manage. Which was very fast, even without the Hiraishin.

The light in the hall blinded him, sending pain shooting through his eyes and into his skull. He staggered, managing to catch himself on the wall and he started to drag himself down the hall, wanting - _needing_ to find an empty room so he could compose himself. Or ride the downward spiral out. It was looking like this time it would be the latter one he would have to experience.

If he could just figure out the _trigger_ . Then he could logicly sort his way through the panic, use that to calm himself. Last time he’d had such a panic attack had been after the very last incident with Madara, when Hashirama had almost _killed_ himself, and Tobirama had easily been able to pinpoint what triggered it then.  After that encounter he’d stumbled his way to his room in the Senju compound, no-one aware of his inner turmoil, and allowed the panic from his last brother’s almost death run its course.

Now though - it was ridiculous.This _shouldn’t_ be happening. Despite his exhaustion and discomfort, he _shouldn’t_ be having an episode right now. There was no imminent threat of war and death despite his paranoia, he _knew_ that, so _why the hall was he now huddled in an empty storage room struggling to fucking breathe -_

Tobirama sucked in great, gasping breaths, trying to get air into his lungs, but it felt like a futile attempt. It was like there was a vice wrapping around the organs in his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter, and any attempts at telling himself that he was being ridiculous, having a panic attack over nothing, that he was perfectly alright - Nothing was _working_.

He wasn’t alright. He was far from alright. He was fucking _exhausted_ and there was so much work to be done and he couldn’t afford to do this right now and he needed Hashirama, needed his steady, calming presence because no matter what he always managed to calm him, but _Hashirama wasn’t there-_

Until there suddenly, was _something._ Something that Tobirama’s senses latched onto like a lifeline, something powerful and deep and steady. Different. Calm. Old and dark, dark in a way that should be completely, utterly terrifying because nothing that dark could be good, but-

It drowned out everything. It closed in around Tobirama like a smothering wave of shadow, curling and stroking and filling his senses until he couldn’t feel the other clan heads who were so close by or any of his other clan mates nearby or anyone else, there was just…

Just this. Just… _Madara_.

There’s a sudden sharp slap to his cheek, and Tobirama jolts, coming back to himself and sucking in a lungful of much needed oxygen. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear away tears and see through the darkness, only a thin stripe of light from the half-closed doorway trying to illuminate the closet. There was a voice - a familiar voice, calling his name, and Tobirama reached out blindly with both hands and grasped something soft - material. Clothes.

Madara?

“That’s it - come on, slow, deep breaths. Everything’s alright, Tobirama. You’re going to be alright-”

Tobirama sucked in another deep breath and clenched his eyes shut, biting back a sob. Fucking hell - of all people to come across him, it just had to be Madara Bloody Uchiha. And he was - trying to calm him. Comfort him.

If he wasn’t in the current state he was in, Tobirama would fancy the idea that he’d somehow slipped into some odd alternate reality. Being comforted by this man - who hated him with a sheer burning passion - couldn’t actually be happening. It couldn’t. Not after what Tobirama had done in the past, not after he’d killed Izuna and almost ruined everything.

But it was happening. And strangely enough, it was working.

Slowly, Tobirama was coming back to himself. He was able to start actually _thinking._ The vice in his chest was lessening, bit by bit as seconds passed, and all the while Madara’s voice was murmuring in his ear, low and deep and there were gloved hands on his arms, squeezing ever so slightly - and Madara’s presence hung thick and heavy, his chakra dark and powerful and almost intoxicating in a way that Hashirama’s both was and wasn’t, familiar but at the same time so completely _different_ to what Tobirama remembered it being.

That couldn’t be right, he registered distantly. It may have been a few days since Tobirama last saw Madara, but that was nowhere near enough time for anything about him to change so drastically. Madara had always felt… rough. Sharp and prickly, dangerous and dark and powerful yes, but… nowhere near anything like this.

This had… a weight to it. Experience. It was overall just…. _More_.

He didn't understand why it felt so… so _soothing_.

He blinked blearily up at where Madara’s silhouette was crouched before him, chest still feeling tight and nausea curling in his gut, and let out one last, shuddering breath. “... Madara.

An acknowledgement of his presence. Tobirama couldn’t quite get his mind to think of what else to say just yet.

Madara let out a soft snort, and his voice was dry when he said, “You got a hold of yourself yet? I thought you might need some help with managing the Hokage’s business, and clearly I was right-”

That snapped him out of the last dredges of panic that clung to his mind. Tobirama abruptly scowled and shoved at Madara. He vaguely registered that he’d still been clutching his clothes as he released him, and staggered to his feet. His body felt weak and the nausea in his gut rolled and Madara’s chakra was still thick in the air around him - and it managed to give him strength enough for him to put some space between he and the Uchiha clan head. Never mind that it was hard to keep steady, that his legs trembled beneath his weight.

“I’m managing fine on my own.” Tobirama growled. It hurt to speak. His voice sounded rough, like he’d been screaming. He squinted at Madara in the dark, unsure of where to look, years of avoiding looking another in the eyes useless in this situation. His eyesight was as terrible in the dark as it was in the light, but he _knew_ there was a dumb smug grin on Madara’s face.

“Yes, you clearly are.” Madara drawled and shifted; probably crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s why I found you hyperventilating in a storage closet, I’m sure.”

Tobirama glared, knowing the action was useless with the lack of light but doing it anyway. Thankfully - _suspiciously_ \- Madara didn’t ask. There wasn’t even a hint of question in his tone. There wasn’t even anything overly _mocking_ about the way he spoke, either. Just - a gentle ribbing, no accusation, not even any spite which _always_ laced Madara’s words whenever they had to speak to one another.

The Senju squinted again, suspicion curling through the lingering fog in his mind.

Madara hated him. That was always clear as day, and Tobirama made no effort to hide that he felt the same. They kept their squabbles under the table so as to not worry Hashirama, a mutual decision on their part, but there was no love lost between them. So why, then, was Madara here? And why did he feel… _different_?

Any accusations that wanted to escape his tongue, he held back. It wouldn’t do to… throw them about when he had nothing to go off of other than that Madara felt _different_ . Still Madara, but _different._ “... What are you doing here, Madara? I thought you sent in a representative because you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

There was a rustling noise and he saw Madara’s form shift. He shrugged? “I had some business to attend to but it concluded earlier than I expected. I had thought the meeting would be over quickly and that I would be able to get some work done, but then I find you. Hiding in a closet. Hyperventilating.”

Tobirama grit his teeth, hot anger scorching through him, and he opened his mouth, a scathing retort on his tongue, but Madara continued. “So, I've decided that I will go in there and move things along, and you’re going to go home and rest.”

Tobirama’s jaw clicked shut. “What.”

There was a soft snort. “You. Will go to your home. And rest. _I_ will stay here and do my job. You are not the only one Hashirama instated as his advisor.”

The Senju swallowed, taken aback. Yes, Hashirama looked to the both of them for help and support, but for a long while now Madara had been…

Absent, is the best term.

There was a sigh. “I realise lately I have been… remiss in my duties, and it’s time for me to step up.” Not quite an apology, but… “And I can’t let Hashirama’s dear little brother flounder due to a panic attack. We can’t have you delaying things now, can we?”

It was said with spite, like it usually was, but at the same time it felt… wrong. Almost half-hearted.

Usually, Tobirama would have raised to the bait and sniped back. But this entire situation was just… too odd.

He remained silent, mind churning, unconsciously relaxing in the cocoon of Madara’s smothering chakra.

He heard the Uchiha shift again, and then heard another sigh. “Look, Senju. I understand that in Hashirama’s absence, you’re on edge and on high alert. But you can’t do anything if you’re overwhelmed. Stop using your chakra, go home, and _rest._ ”

He turned on his heel and threw open the closet door, bathing the small closet with light. Tobirama hissed and threw a hand over his eyes, the light causing pain to spike through his brain. “Madara, wait-”

“I know you don’t trust me.” Madara’s voice had him freezing, and the Senju pulled his hand away a little, squinting in the light. Madara was just a shapeless dark mass before him, but Tobirama could _feel_ him still, in that comforting, overpowering way. “I have done… nothing to try and remedy that. But know now that things are changing, Tobirama. Everything I’m doing now is for the sake of the village. For Hashirama. Maybe in time, you’ll see that. For now… please. Let me deal with things for now. _Rest_.”

And then he was gone, his presence pulling away and leaving Tobirama aching and feeling cold in the aftermath. He sucked in a breath and scrubbed his hand down his face, his mind reeling, his body aching and exhausted, and all he could do for a moment was lean against the closet wall and try to compose himself.

To be helped out of a spiral by Madara Uchiha, of all things. A Madara that somehow felt different. A Madara who acted civil, maybe even _kind_.

Tobirama scowled down at the floor. Something was very, very wrong.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO BLOWN AWAY BY THE RESPONSE OF THIS omg guys all your comments made me so happy ;v; so I wanted to finish this asap!
> 
> Also, posting the cover art I did for it for this chapter as well since I don't think a lot of people saw it when I inserted it yesterday in the first chapter ahah

“You didn't rest at all, did you.” It wasn't so much a question as it was an accusation.

Since he was a child, Tobirama had it ingrained in him to never look an Uchiha in the eye. That conditioning held even now, though the Senju and Uchiha had been allied for a good few years at this point. One just didn't dismiss the threat of the Sharingan after a few years of peace; even now, whenever he spoke to an Uchiha, he focused on their mouths or cheeks or forehead rather than look into their eyes.

This wasn't the dark of an empty supply closet. This was the Hokage's office at midmorning, and Madara's features were entirely visible. Even to Tobirama's terrible eyesight - he could see where the corners of his mouth tightened in a barely there grimace. 

This Madara who seemed to…  _ care _ was still disturbingly odd, even after a full night of pondering.

“I rested.” Tobirama said curtly and placed the pile of paperwork in his arms onto the small desk before him. It technically wasn’t a lie - he  _ had _ rested, though he hadn’t been able to sleep for long. He’d crashed and slept off the panic attack for a few hours and then woke up, too wired, too focused on this new mystery, and had instead retreated to his lab to work on the few projects he had going on. It had honestly been the most peaceful evening he’d had in a while, despite what had happened before.

He was almost tempted to thank Madara.

Almost.

There was a very slight twitch of Madara’s nostrils as he inhaled. “Did you even stop using your chakra?”

Tobirama let out a soft huff and sat at his desk and began setting up for the morning, as good as dismissing the irritated Uchiha standing before him. He reached into one of the drawers and pulled out his lenses, slid them onto his nose, and squinted down at the paper; the words became clearer, and the ache behind his eyes lessened somewhat. “I did when I slept.”

Shutting off his sensor abilities felt too much like having  _ everything _ shut off. Perhaps it was a weakness, being so reliant on them, but they’d always made up for his terrible vision. To go from feeling  _ everything _ to feeling  _ nothing _ was a surefire way to driving himself nuts.

But he wasn’t going to tell Madara that. Even if his presence was pressing in around him, warm and dark and soothing-

He let out a breath and glared at up the Uchiha - not meeting his eyes. “Don’t you have something better to do than harass me?”

He was expecting a scathing retort, but he didn’t get one - instead he watched as Madara’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he said, “Your eyes give you trouble, don’t they?”

Surprised, Tobirama blinked. “What-”

Suddenly ungloved hands were gripping his chin and Tobirama tensed up, having not expected him to move at all. Madara’s fingers were warm against his skin, and the Senju flinched when Madara plucked the glasses from his nose - and unbidden, his eyes rose to meet Madara’s.

It was the first time Tobirama had ever looked into his eyes, and he felt frozen stiff. Where he expected to see the whirling red of the Sharingan, instead there were just pools of deep obsidian - narrowed in concentration. And then Madara’s hands were moving and Tobirama felt a flare of soothing, cool chakra, and Madara’s thumbs pressed against the corners of his eyes, wordlessly urging him to close them.

Against his base instincts, Tobirama found himself doing just that. He closed his eyes (internally grateful that he wouldn’t have to look into Madara’s anymore, they were too dark and intense and unnerving), and Madara’s thumbs swept over the closed eyelids, sending the cooling wave of chakra over raw, sensitive nerves, and Tobirama’s breath hitched. “... Madara, what… what are you doing?”

“I may not be a medic,” The Uchiha stated dryly, “But I know a thing or two about eye strain. This happens a lot, doesn’t it? I’ve been noticing for a while. You’re always squinting.”

Tobirama grunted, his hands clutching the edge of the desk as he fought against the urge to squirm. Madara’s ungloved hands were warm, a counter to the cool chakra that was filtering through his body, and the Senju found himself flailing - inwardly, because he was loathe to allow Madara to see him lose control of himself  _ again _ dammit.

The Uchiha didn’t seem to be put off by Tobirama’s lack of answer. He continued speaking, voice a low, deep baritone that Tobirama could remember distinctly from the day before, and it made his gut twist in an uncomfortable manner because - this was too much. His chakra surrounding him, flowing into his body, Madara’s warmth so close to him, so close that Tobirama swore he could hear his heartbeat - it was too, too much, but he found he couldn’t do anything other than sit there stiffly and listen. “I never would have thought you had trouble with your vision. Considering your prowess in battle, your accuracy is practically unsurpassable, even to an Uchiha.”

“I’m a sensor.” Tobirama was able to grind out. A shiver wanted to work its way up and down his spine, but he fought to keep himself still. “I’ve learned to do without proper vision when it comes to battle.”

“Of course. Rather brilliantly, too.” Madara’s voice had an amused ring to it, and Tobirama began to scowl, feeling like the Uchiha was mocking him. Oddly enough, the expected mocking words did not come, and again, Tobirama found himself inwardly flailing.

  
What the name of the Sage of Six Paths was going on with this man??

The soothing flow of chakra stopped, and Madara’s warm fingers pulled away, but his overall presence remained, dark and encompassing and overpowering, and reluctantly, Tobirama opened his eyes.

There was the usual sting from the light, but other than that, there was no pain. The strain was gone, along with the accompanying headache, and Tobirama blinked rapidly before focusing on the man before him. Gloves adjusted back into place, Madara crossed his arms and looked down at him with a - dare he say it -  _ fond _ expression?

Tobirama stared, expression forced blank while inwardly he tried to make sense of this entirely weird and ridiculous situation. He opened his mouth, closed it after a moment, and then tried again and managed to get out, “Why did you do that?”

Madara’s expression closed off, becoming just as blank as Tobirama's own, and he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “If you’re not going to properly rest then it’s the least I can do to make sure you’re well enough to do the work you insist on doing - when you don’t need to, might I add. I have things in control here, and your idiot brother returns tomorrow, no? So you should take what I said under considerarion and  _ go home and rest _ .”

Tobirama bristled. Even after what Madara had done for him, he couldn’t help it - being bossed around had always rubbed him the wrong way, and it was worse because it was coming from  _ Madara. _

(Hashirama knew that; despite the idiotic front he put up, he was head of the Senju clan - the Hokage - for a  _ reason _ , and he knew Tobirama better than anyone. He knew how to word things in a way that would get Tobirama to do things that he would normally be completely against with little complaint. Their father had never really understood that the only reason Tobirama had ever listened to him was always for the sake of his siblings, and therefore Tobirama had very,  _ very _ little kind thoughts towards Batsuma Senju. Hashirama had more or his respect than he’d ever given their father, and he knew how to take advantage of that and get Tobirama to listen to him when it mattered.)

(The point was, the only one who could tell Tobirama what to do was Hashirama.

He’d looked it over yesterday in the wake of the panic attack. But now he was more in his right mind.

Madara most certainly did not have that right to  _ tell him what to do _ .)

Slowly, Tobirama stood from his chair, placing both hands on his desk. This entire time, Madara had had the high ground, had loomed over him. Not now - Tobirama had a good few centimetres on the Uchiha, and he used that to his advantage as he glared.

Right into Madara’s eyes. Because he wasn’t going to get his point across if he didn’t, and the fact that he’d met them before and nothing terrible had come of it encouraged him. He ignored the slight thrill it gave him - ignored the way Madara’s brow quirked up, and he didn’t cower under his glare, instead seeming  _ amused _ \- and said in a clear, succinct voice, “I am going to continue my work. I need to read over the notes from yesterday's meeting, and then I need to meet with the Yamanaka clan head. I am going to do that, because I can actually  _ think clearly. _ You will  _ stop _ telling me what to do.  _ Thank you _ for your help, now  _ leave me to work!” _

Madara didn’t even blink. If anything, his entire being began to radiate even  _ more _ amusement, and it gave his chakra a warm, light twist that made him want to shiver  _ again,  _ and Tobirama twitched, barely managing to refrain from baring his teeth in a snarl. He promptly sat back down, drew his paperwork close, and proceeded to  _ ignore _ the damn irritating bastard.

“Alright then.” Madara conceded. His voice was edged with laughter, something Tobirama couldn’t remember hearing before. He’d heard him laugh at Hashirama, he’d heard him laugh during battle, but those laughs had always held a distinct edge of  _ madness _ . Especially lately. This, though… this was just mirth. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Tobirama squinted up at him, hiding his baffled emotions behind suspicion. He swiped his glasses back up and placed them on his nose - which brought Madara’s face into greater clarity. He stared for a moment, before he focused on the papers before him. “Good. You do that.”

Madara let out a soft hum and strode from the office without another word, leaving Tobirama to his tumultuous thoughts. 

 

* * *

 

It turned out that Tobirama… really didn’t have  _ that _ much to do. He went over the notes from the budget meeting and found everything to be in order, read through a few proposals from some clan heads, and went to the meeting with the Yamanaka - all of which took just a few hours.

It left Tobirama with… a lot of free time. And he realised that Madara must have  _ taken _ a lot of the work he still had left over.

The Senju had… no idea what to think of all of this. Annoyed? Yes, he was, a little. Grateful? Also yes, because as much as he actually enjoyed the work, he was really starting to get a bit worn down. It wasn’t that Hashirama had given him too much for him to deal with, it was all Tobirama’s own choice to take on as much as he had.  _ Someone _ had to sort things out and get the village running properly - as much as Hashirama hid his intelligence behind an idiot puppy facade, he didn’t really have the mind for the detailed organization that Tobirama had.    
  
And Madara… Tobirama never thought much about it because Madara had only ever really helped in the beginning, before he began to… drift away and leave village (and clan) matters to others. It had been worrying behaviour, Hashirama had talked his ear off numerous times with his moping and fears.

Hashirama confided within him a lot, lately. He’d been worried that Madara was going to leave.

Now, though, it appeared Madara was taking full interest in the managing of the village. He appeared to be in good spirits. He was bloody soothing Tobirama’s aching eyes with medical chakra.  _ Something had changed. _

Just… what was it?

With little else to do for the day, Tobirama retreated to his personal lab once again. The seal he had been working on was almost complete - he just had to tweak a few more things and make sure it was in working order, and he could work on it with only minor discomfort thanks to Madara’s help.

And wasn’t that odd to think? That Madara had  _ helped. _

Well… perhaps he would talk about Madara’s recent behaviour to Hashirama when he returned tomorrow. For now, he had the free time, concentration, and good spirits to work on his personal projects.   
… Thanks to Madara.  _ Damn it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more things follow me on tumblr~ http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely blown away by the response I've gotten for this fic so far ;v;/ I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this <3
> 
> This chapter is a little longer than intended whoops

 

Come the next day, Tobirama was distracted. He  _ should _ have been able to focus on work due to being more well rested than he had been in a long while, but his attention was split between two separate conundrums.

One of them was the new seal he’d been working on for the past few months. He was so close to seeing it done, but there was just one tiny significant detail he just couldn’t work out, and he was  _ so close _ to finishing it he could  _ taste _ it. A part of him wanted nothing more than to squirrel away in his lab and focus on it for the day, and it was only his duties to the village that kept him from doing so.

The second was, of course, Madara. Who he could feel heading towards him as Tobirama walked down the hall out of the Hokage’s office, flipping through a few files he was trying, and somewhat failing, to concentrate on. With Madara’s close proximity, it was inevitable that his attention latched onto him. The Uchiha’s chakra was as dark and smothering as ever, but it was exhibiting odd little spikes of emotion that Tobirama was having trouble deciphering. Which was silly because he should have been able to decipher it, but it was much too… sharp. Intense. The Senju found he couldn’t pick the odd little emotional spikes out as trying to focus on  _ that _ just made his stomach roll in an odd way. Despite the apparent changes the Uchiha was going through, it would appear one thing remained the same - he was still a prickly bastard.

Regardless, the previous night as he worked on the seal, he’d come to a decision. He would be civil to Madara, so long as the Uchiha extended the same courtesy.

“Here.” Tobirama said absently, shoving one of the folders into Madara’s hands as the Uchiha fell into step beside him. “I’ve drafted up some plans for the academy that I’d like your input on.”

Madara let out a hum and tucked the folder under his arm. “Well Senju, I’m surprised, it’s almost like you actually value my opinion. Are you alright? Did you fall out of bed this morning and hit your head on the way down?”

Tobirama snorted. Ridiculous man. “Of course I value your opinion. Now that you’re proving you’re actually proficient in your duties and not a hopeless case of spite and rage.”

There was another spike in Madara’s chakra at his words, and the Senju glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The Uchiha appeared unbothered, disinterested as he flicked through his own pile of files, perfectly in sync with Tobirama as they walked. Tobirama looked away and focused ahead, where he could feel Hashirama’s chakra signature getting closer and closer to the village gate. Big and encompassing and bright and steady, almost a complete opposite to Madara’s. 

Despite the effect Madara’s presence had on him the past few days, it still wasn’t enough to dispel the tension and worry he had over Hashirama being gone from the village. Now though, with him so close, the last of the tension drained away, leaving Tobirama feeling oddly adrift. With Madara’s heavy presence by his side and Hashirama’s bright one getting ever closer, Tobirama was feeling…  _ good _ .

It was an odd feeling. What was his life becoming? 

“You look to be in a hurry. Where are we going?” Madara’s question drew Tobirama’s attention back to him. It provided him a better chance to take the Uchiha in - he looked oddly ruffled, his nest of hair a little more unruly than usual. He thought he could make out darker than usual smudges under his eyes.

The Senju squinted at him, head tilted. “Hashirama has entered my range. I’m going to meet him at the gates. You’re more than welcome to tag along.”

There was absolutely nothing about Madara’s appearance that gave away the sudden sharp spike of agitation his chakra gave. At least, not that Tobirama could see, and really, he should start taking his glasses with him whenever he left the office or lab, even if he loathed wearing them in public. Madara let out a faint hum and looked straight ahead, by all rights appearing unconcerned, but his chakra became a roiling, shuddering mess that had Tobirama’s steps faltering as his head gave an odd, dull throb of pain.

And Madara noticed, if the way he stopped walking and looked back was any indication. His chakra abruptly smoothed back into a steady, if not as calm as before state, and he looked back at Tobirama with a quirked brow.

Tobirama looked at him with narrowed eyes, and fell back into step beside him. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Was the immediate denial. Madara was once again facing ahead, once again appearing unconcerned. 

“Something makes me think you’re not telling the truth.” Tobirama drawled, but he didn’t push when Madara’s chakra spiked again - not as bad as before, but still enough to have him pursing his lips in discomfort. 

There was a lot of negative emotion in there. So much so that he couldn’t even begin to untangle it. Had something happened to upset Madara? The man was usually always in a snit (baring the past few days) but even then, he’d never really felt  _ this _ upset.

Usually only mention of Izuna awoke those intense emotions. And Tobirama most certainly never brought up  _ him _ .

They arrived at the gate and stood in silence. Tobirama busied his hands by flicking through the paperwork, even if the light glare off the paper made it difficult to see. Madara just stood beside him, arms crossed with his files dangling from one hand, staring out at the road with a blank expression as his chakra subtly continued to roil and spike with barely suppressed emotion.

“We had a fight, before he left.” Madara suddenly spoke. It almost started Tobirama - almost. “At least, you could consider it a fight.”   
  
Tobirama focused on him, eyebrow raised in question.  _ A fight _ ? Madara and Hashirama’s relationship was hardly sunshine and rainbows yes, but the two were very much friends. Tobirama had never been able to deny that relationship aspect. The worst that usually came of their squables were Madara devolving into a screeching harpy and Hashirama slipping into one of his overdramatic depressive episodes that lasted for as long as it took for something else to come along and catch his attention. Which tended to happen every five or so minutes, give or take.

They argued, they had their differences, but they never  _ fought _ . Not since the peace treaty between their clans.  _ Fighting _ had always been Tobirama’s and Madara’s roll.

The Senju frowned and thought back to a week ago, when Hashirama had left for the Feudal Lord’s court. His brother  _ had _ been… unusually somber, now that he thought about it. Not like his usual pouty episodes, but more quiet. Serious.

Huh. Perhaps this… fight is what caused the change in Madara? If so, it truly must have been quite serious. 

As immediately as the thought came however, he dismissed it. A fight could not cause such a drastic shift in one’s feelings towards another - a fight between Hashirama and Madara is not the cause of Madara being kind to him. Perhaps it had influenced him a little, but the more Tobirama thought about it, the more he thought it didn’t seem right.

Hmm.

Another spike of Madara’s chakra had him wincing - and beginning to feel the slightest bit apprehensive - when his vision actually registered what he was seeing. Hashirama was in sight now, along with the group sent along to guard him - as Tobirama watched, Hashirama seemed to pick up pace, an arm raised high in the air that he began to wave wildly back and forth, and Tobirama bit back a sigh.

Always so damn excitable.

Without caring about his poor guards, Hashirama began running down the road, his chakra a happy bubbling thing that pulled Tobirama’s attention away from Madara’s, and Tobirama found himself relaxing once again. It was alright - things would go back to normal now that Hashirama was back. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and allowed a slight smile to cross his lips as he watched his brother run up to them. He was dressed in armour he hadn’t donned in a long while, the garments dusty from the travels, and he looked to be in good health and spirits. There was something - different, though, that it took Tobirama a moment to decipher. His chakra had an odd surprised tinge to it, and as the Hokage got closer Tobirama realised that he had eyes on Madara.

Like he was shocked to see him. Shocked, but happy.

Tobirama looked to Madara as well, taking in the slightly scowling profile and the way his chakra once again began to spike with all of that negative emotion, and he let out a breath. Alright - yes, it seemed that regardless of what had happened, what looked to be true was that Madara and Hashirama had parted on negative terms, and things ended in a way that had Hashirama surprised to see Madara again, and Madara was trying to keep his emotions under check - which was something he rarely made an attempt at. Curious, Tobirama thought, holding back another wince at the Uchiha’s spiking chakra. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his head, the action drawing Madara’s gaze briefly.

Once again, Madara’s chakra was held under a tight leash, and Tobirama could breathe a little easier.

By the sage, this situation was confusing. Tobirama was very close to demanding some clear bloody answers, but the thought went to the wayside as Hashirama was finally close enough to hear.

And of course, the emotional fool was babbling about having a welcoming party waiting for him. Right. Some party. Madara looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, and Tobirama knew himself well enough to know he had a similar expression on his face as Hashirama threw himself at them.

For a split second, Tobirama and Madara looked at one another, their eyes meeting. They stepped aside, out of the way of Hashirama’s flailing body, causing him to go flying past them and he stumbled, barely managing to keep from falling to the ground in an undignified heap.

“You guys,” He blubbered, turning to face them with watery eyes. “You’re waiting for me! I’m so glad to have a brother and best friend like you-”

“Stop embarrassing yourself.” Tobirama said shortly, despite the fact he really  _ was _ glad to see his brother return in good spirits. Hopefully that meant the diplomatic mission had gone well - and knowing Hashirama, he’d leave out a lot of necessary details, so he’d have to ask Touka for a proper relay of events as well. “You’ve been gone for an entire week. Madara and I did what we could, but there are things that require your attention right away. We shouldn’t dawdle.”

Hashirama paled. “But - but we just got back! Surely it can wait-”

He yelped and went stumbling again as Madara planted a foot firmly on his rear and gave him a shove. “You’re acting like a child. You just need to go over some paperwork and give your okay for a few things, then you can go do whatever the hell you want.”

Hashirama’s expression brightened exponentially at that, and he turned to face Madara with a wide grin. His expression softened as he took in the Uchiha, his chara spiking with warm happiness, and he said quietly, “You decided to stay. I’m so glad.”

In complete contrast to Hashirama, Madara’s chakra spiked and blackened, and Tobirama felt a shudder crawl through him, goosebumps rising across his skin as he tensed - his senses suddenly locking onto Madara as a  _ threat _ . His hands gave an unconscious twitch, wanting to reach for a weapon, but he managed to hold himself back as Madara’s black gaze found him. His expression shifted, very obviously he tried to get himself back under control - and after a few moments, his chakra calmed, and he donned a grumpy scowl.

Almost as if nothing had actually happened.

“Yes.” Madara finally said in answer to Hashirama, and he tore his gaze from Tobirama to look at him. The younger Senju expected his control to waver again, but it seemed as if Madara finally had himself fully under control. “Yes I decided to stay, no thanks to you, you fool. I just had some… enlightening epiphanies. You’re not going to get rid of me so easily.”

Hashirama stared, and Tobirama winced and gave him a shove towards the direction of the Hokage tower before the inevitable waterworks started. He had no clue what the hell they were talking about, but he decided the best thing to do would be to let Madara have some time to himself - to cool off. And maybe Tobirama just wanted some distance away from the Uchiha as well - though he’d come to find his presence soothing, right now it was anything but. He would take the time to pry the information from Hashirama when they were alone.

“Come on.” Tobirama shoved him some more, and sent Madara a glance. “Let us go get that work done and out of the way quickly. Madara will go deal with his own duties.”

Madara's eyes were firmly fixed on him, almost in an appraising matter, and Tobirama hesitated before inclining his head and facing forwards. This - making Hashirama fixate on work would give Madara some time to himself to cool off - and this could perhaps be another peace offering of sorts. 

“But - Madara-” Hashirama protested, a whine in his voice, and Tobirama viciously stifled the childish urge to tug at his brother's hair.

“Madara has things to do, as do you.” Tobirama snorted, and at the very least gave into the urge to grab his brother’s arm and begin dragging him. An undignified portrayal of their Hokage, but people could deal - Hashirama could portray a terrible image well enough on his own. “You can harass him  _ after  _ you're done. And don't forget you actually have a wife waiting for you as well, let me add.”

Proficiently blocking out his brother's whines, Tobirama fixated his senses on Madara's chakra as they walked back to the Hokage's office. It was churning once again, remaining stationary as Madara watched them go, before it abruptly turned and started moving in the opposite direction - to the training grounds, Tobirama realised.

Madara was probably going to let out steam in one of the best ways a shinobi knew how. Tobirama wasn't going to begrudge him that.

* * *

 

 

Throughout the day, Tobirama kept an eye on Madara’s chakra signature. It flared and fluctuated distractingly, so much so he  _ definitely _ couldn’t focus on work, and even Hashirama - who wasn’t a sensor by any means - could feel the disturbance in the air. Probably a good deal of other shinobi in the village could as well, but no-one came to them to raise the subject.

People knew that the best thing to do when Madara was in a snit was to avoid him.

“So explain.” Tobirama sank into the chair opposite to Hashirama’s desk, his brother staring distractedly out the window - towards the training grounds. “What was that about? You mentioned Madara  _ leaving _ .”

Tobirama had his glasses on, this time. He’d yet to take them off after realising he couldn’t concentrate on paperwork - as such, he was able to see the way Hashirama’s expression tightened, the way his lips thinned and his eyes grew dark. Of course, even if he wasn’t able to see, he would have been able to feel the change in Hashirama from his chakra alone. It shivered, taking on a tinge of agitation and despair.

Tobirama pursed his lips. “... Brother. Tell me.”

After a few seconds passed, Hashirama sighed, deflating in his chair. He leaned forwards, elbows resting on the desk and linked his fingers, his eyes growing distant. “Madara… He said he found a different path. That he was no longer trusted by the village. By… his clan. He talked about this stone tablet that had apparently been in the clan for generations, told this ridiculous story. And said that… that he was leaving to follow his new path.”

His elder brother let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes. “I was… worried. But I wasn’t going to stop him. But I suppose in the end I needn’t have worried, since… he’s still here.” He shot Tobirama a small smile, and his eyes brightened. “And you seem to be getting along with one another. Did something happen while I was gone, little brother?”

Tobirama gave him a blank look, his mind elsewhere. Finally, he answered, “Nothing dramatic like you’re likely imagining. He just decided he was going to be tolerable to be around, is all.”

Hashirama hummed, and his smile turned into a grin. “I’m surprised.” He chuckled when Tobirama shot him a sour look. “And glad. You’re really trying, aren’t you?”

Tobirama averted his gaze, lips pursed. After a moment, he stood and walked to the door. “I’m merely showing the same courtesy he showed me. That is all. Now get your work done.”

Madara’s presence was now on the barest edges of his sensory range - out of the village now. Likely wreaking all sorts of havoc. Maybe now he’d actually be able to get some work done as well.

* * *

 

One distraction was out of the way. The seal was done, as close to perfect as it could be.

That just left Madara to consume his thoughts. Madara, who just a week ago was intent on leaving the village, but now seemed intent on sticking around.

As Tobirama felt the chakra signature get closer and closer, he fiddled with the brush in his hand and debated with himself.

Madara felt a lot calmer now. Perhaps he'd managed to work out all or that aggression while he'd been out of Tobirama's sensory range, and the Senju supposed he was rather glad for that. He couldn't imagine how his senses would have reacted under the onslaught of such aggressive, angry power, and not to mention any unleashing of said power would have drawn the attention of practically every shinobi in the village and sent them into high alert.

It wasn't that Tobirama hadn't known of the sheer power that Madara held. He'd known that he was only rivalled - if not surpassed - by Hashirama, but Madara had always been more… reserved, since the founding of the village. And Tobirama may have forgotten what it was like to face such power on the battlefield. So feeling it all riled up and out of control like that again was…

Tobirama shivered at the memory. It had hurt, feeling the onslaught, but at the same time…

The Senju held on to enough of himself to bite back the groan of frustration that wanted to escape him, but he did give in and scrub a hand down his face, pausing to shove his glasses up onto his forehead and rub at tired eyes, before focusing once again on Madara's encroaching chakra signature. He tapped the wooden end of the brush against the lab bench surface and surveyed the carefully drawn out diagram to triple check for any mistakes. He came to a decision moments before he heard a scuff outside the door, which was followed by a hard rap of knuckles against wood.

“Come in,” he called without pulling his gaze away from the sheet of paper. He could feel Madara hesitate for a brief moment, before the lab door swung inwards and Madara stepped inside. 

He allowed the Uchiha a few moments to look around - since Tobirama knew he'd never been there before -  before he beckoned the elder man over. He didn't ask what he came here for, instead dove headlong into his own wants - figuring Madara would appreciate the distraction as well. “It's good you came here. I need to borrow you for a moment.”

Madara's brow quirked up in question before he sauntered over to stand beside his sitting form, a faint look of curiosity on his face. “Borrow me? I do hope that's not your way of saying you wish to use me in some sort of dastardly experiment.”

“Don't be silly.” Tobirama snorted, and held out the brush, inwardly amused at the way Madara wordlessly took it from his fingers - holding it delicately as if it were going to suddenly come to life and bite him. “It's for an experiment, yes, but hardly anything that would make you worry. You're not the test subject.”

“No?” he could feel Madara watching him as he untied his top and shrugged it down over his shoulders, turned on his stool, and showed his back to the Uchiha.

To a former enemy. To someone Tobirama knew could quite easily kill him if he wished. Because for all that Tobirama was powerful in his own right, he truly believed he didn't hold a candle to his brother in terms of sheer power, and since Madara was practically his equal… 

Of course, Tobirama would put up a fight. Perhaps even get the upper hand, if he was sneaky, if he put his superior speed to good use. But he knew that if Madara tried, if he came at Tobirama with intent, then he knew he likely wouldn't survive. 

It really was a wonder Madara never  _ did _ try. Even… after Izuna…

Shoving those thoughts from his mind, Tobirama reached out and tapped the drawn out diagram. “You have better eyes and a steady hand. I was going to use a shadow clone, but… you're the better, logical choice.”

“You want me to draw out a seal along your back?” Madara sounded faintly incredulous from behind him, and Tobirama fought the twitch that wanted to pull his lips into a smirk. Ah, he'd managed to surprise him… “I'm going to hazard a guess and say it's experimental to boot. Is that safe?”

Tobirama rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Safe enough. The only thing that would make it entirely unsafe is if you draw it out wrong.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the elder man, and pulled his lips into a smirk. “So, do try not to make any mistakes. Brother would be most displeased if you had to pull him from his bed just for him to reattach my errant limbs.”

Madara stared at him for a moment, expression blank, before he let out a snort and shook his head. Taking that as acquiescence, Tobirama turned back around and closed his eyes against the light.

The surge of chakra - Madara likely activating his Sharingan to inspect and memorise the diagram - had him shivering a little, and he forced himself still when he felt a gloved hand grip his shoulder. To hold him steady. Tobirama let out a breath and relaxed, and the first stroke of the brush against his skin was cold - oddly intense. Intimate.

Tobirama bit the inside of his cheek, and lost himself the the sensation of light, delicate brush strokes and a heavy, smothering chakra.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What else were you expecting, Tobirama. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just;;;; so very overwhelmed by the love this is getting ;v; it's been a long, long time since a fic I have written has gotten this kind of love, it's making me all warm and fuzzy inside;;;; I finished writing this at ass in the morning and am posting it after only a cursory read through, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes!
> 
> There's no art for this chapter sadly, but I'll link a pic I did down in the end notes that will give a reference of what the seal looks like!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy <3

The brush strokes were soothing, and lulled Tobirama into a not quite doze. He retained enough awareness of how he was sitting in his stool - straight backed, but relaxed, and didn't list forwards or sideways even under the calming deft strokes. But Sage, he wanted too. Madara's presence was like a warm, heavy blanket, such a grand contrast to how it was earlier, and Tobirama wondered just… when exactly he'd come to see Madara as something that wasn't a threat. As someone that he could turn his back on and feel safe around.

It hadn’t even been a week.

It was an alarming thought. Or it would have been, if Tobirama wasn't so relaxed and ready to doze off at a moment's notice. It would be so easy, too - if Madara wasn't concentrating at his back, and doing so would mess up the seal.

Tobirama had worked too long on it, damn it.

“Are you going to tell me what this does?” Madara’s voice roused him from his thoughts, and Tobirama blinked slowly and tilted his head a little.

“It…” He rolled the words around his tongue, a part of him still reluctant to divulge anything that could benefit him in battle, even in his relaxed state. It was not the usual reluctance to tell an Uchiha, though. Just… general reluctance. If he said it now, there was a chance word could get out.

But that was just him being paranoid. There was no one in the lab other than him and Madara. He didn’t need to cast his senses out to confirm that either, as the room - and his entire house, for that matter - was warded with protective seals that prevented anyone from entering without permission and eavesdropping.

(His house was warded in a way that Madara should not have been able to slip through, but the thought didn’t really alarm Tobirama - his appearance benefitted him at the moment. He would look into the issue later.) 

Tobirama clicked his tongue and let out a breath. “It does a lot of things. Forgive me, I don’t wish to divulge the full effect of things - it is experimental, after all, so I don’t wish to state that it does something and then…  _ not _ have it do that.”

“Yes, wouldn't want that blow to your pride.” Madara snorted, and Tobirama let out a small huff at his amused tone. “Is there anything you can tell me about it? I’m admittedly curious.”   
  
Again, Tobirama debated on how much to tell him, and then settled on the one thing he was going to test out the moment Madara was done. It was probably good for him to be informed anyway, just in case things went wrong, though he doubted they would. “A partial function of the seal is that of an amplifier. If things go according to plan, it will enhance my sensory abilities and will double my range, all the while using less chakra than I usually would. It would allow me to… keep an eye on things, without making me as tired.”

Madara’s brush strokes paused for a moment, before continuing. “Sounds handy. Can’t imagine that’d be good for your head, though. I’m nowhere near the sensor that you are, but even I can imagine feeling double what I usually do would cause a fucking migraine or two.”

Tobirama wanted to shrug, but held himself still and instead let out an acknowledging hum. “You’re right. It will take some adjusting, but I’m prepared for it. The benefits are much too great to not take the chance.”

The Uchiha let out another snort, but didn’t refute his words. “You are a terrifying force of nature, Senju. Hashirama would be utterly lost without you.”

Unbidden, those words pulled Tobirama’s lips into a smirk. He quickly stifled the warmth that bloomed in his gut and said, “My, a compliment from you, Uchiha? The world must be ending.”

There was a small huff of laughter. Actual laughter. Against his control, Tobirama shivered at the sound of that soft rumble so close at his back, Madara’s breath warm on his neck. “Perhaps it is.”

The brush drew away, and Madara took a step back. “It’s done.”

Tobirama missed the man’s body heat immediately. But his presence was still there, dark and heavy, so it wasn’t too much of a loss. And he promptly shoved those thoughts and the feelings they evoked to the back of his mind and stood from the stool, raising his arms over his head to stretch, and summoned a shadow clone.

The clone stepped close to his back, squinting at the painted lines on his skin, and gave an approving nod. “Everything looks to be in order. Good job, Madara.”

He could practically feel the raised eyebrow Madara directed at him at the compliment - really, Tobirama was just acknowledging the skill, nothing more - and Tobirama didn’t say anything else in regards to that.

He stretched once again, feeling stiff from sitting still and straight-backed for so long. “You’re not required to be here for this next step, but you could stay if you like.”

Madara crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the lab benches, observing Tobirama with dark eyes, his Sharingan now deactivated. “You’re going to test it out?”

Tobirama nodded and shoved the stool against the bench beside Madara - creating more leg room. “Yes. I need to feed the seal my chakra to get it to properly stain my skin and make it permanent, and doing so will activate it.” For a split second, Tobirama hesitated, and added, “If something happens to go wrong, there are some pre-drawn chakra seals in that cabinet by the door.” 

He thought he saw Madara narrow his eyes, and there was a shiver in his chakra. “You expect something to go wrong?”

The Senju shrugged and looked away. “One must always be prepared for things to go wrong. Having a contingency plan is smart in any circumstance.”

He then firmly attempted to block out everything, including Madara’s presence (exceptionally difficult because it was so in your face it was almost impossible to ignore, and damned if Tobirama most definitely did not feel bereft once he’d blocked it out) and concentrate on the seal. He couldn’t predict what would happen the moment he fed chakra into it, but whatever he thought would happen, it certainly wasn’t the sharp spike of pain that split through his skull and sent him falling to his knees with a cry.

Everything was suddenly  _ too much.  _ He could feel it, every single inhabitant in the village as bright as day - Hashirama in the tower, in his office, anguishing over paperwork. Mito, in her and Hashirama’s house, radiating contentment. Touka at the training grounds, working out annoyance. Hikaku, at the Uchiha compound, anxious and tired. More and more people he both could and couldn’t put names and faces too, he felt every single individual chakra signature and the emotions they were feeling right down to every detail and it drowned out every single thought and Tobirama couldn’t breathe-

And more, and  _ more _ , beyond the village, miles and miles of smaller settlements and the people within them, of people travelling through the forests and on the roads, merchants and shinobi and regular civilians and it was too much  _ too much- _

But then - then - all he could feel was Madara.

It felt like his chakra was wrapping around him, so intense and hot and dark and powerful it smothered everything, drowning out the emotions trying to crowd his mind, and Tobirama could finally  _ breathe. _ And it felt like he was breathing in Madara, the scent of fire and smoke and cinnamon and something floral that Tobirama couldn’t even begin to put a name to; Tobirama shuddered and stretched out, wanting to latch onto that scent and sensation, to wrap himself in it and never emerge, to drown and feel nothing else but this for the rest of eternity. Sparks of something like pleasure shot down his spine and pooled in his gut and a noise, wounded and animalistic rang in his ears. He realised belatedly that the noise must have come from him.

And then there was a hand on his head. Tobirama arched into it, releasing another strangled noise because this was the source of that chakra and scent and it radiated so many confusing, mingling emotions that Tobirama couldn’t make sense of - all he knew was that it was there for him and by the Sage he  _ wanted _ ,  _ wanted so fucking much- _

A hand pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, and then there was nothing - absolutely nothing, and Tobirama was splayed on the cold tiles of his private labs, Madara’s warmth kneeling by his side, two points of heat on his head and back - Madara’s hands. Tobirama was left bereft - feeling both too heavy and like he weighed nothing, his stomach twisting and turning - and he barely managed to raise himself up before he promptly threw up everything he’d eaten that day. 

His ears were ringing, but he could make out the faint sound of Madara’s voice, though he wasn’t able to discern any words. The inflection of his voice sounded oddly panicked -  _ screechy _ , he thought with a trace of amusement, because that was just like the old Madara, one of the things he’d always found amusing about that irritating man, and this Madara was always just a little too calm and controlled-

He spat up a little more, and promptly keeled over to the side and let out a ragged groan. His head thumped against something firm and warm and Tobirama didn’t care what it was because his head was hurting like someone had smacked him with an earth jutsu and he couldn’t string together a coherent thought for the life of him. There were fingers in his hair a moment later, hesitant, but gently moving through the sweat soaked strands, and Tobirama let out another groan.

“-Take you to Hashirama-” Madara was muttering, voice finally making it through his hazy mind. “Whatever the fuck just happened can't have been normal, fuck, you better be fucking alright Senju, I swear if this happened last time-”

“No…” Tobirama slurred out. His tongue felt thick and unwieldy in his mouth, making it difficult to talk. “No, ‘m fine, jus’... jus’ need t’ catch my breath…”

“You are most assuredly not fine!” Madara screeched. 

Tobirama promptly smacked whatever his hand could reach of him - which turned out to be a thigh, and he muttered out, “Too loud. Just… just give me a bit. Please…”

Madara shifted a little, before he let out a huff and acquiesced. A moment later and his hand returned to card through Tobirama's hair, and the Senju let out a faint moan of approval. The stroking was good - soothing. It eased the spiking pain in his head just a little bit and slowly, gradually, Tobirama began to calm.

Now he could work through what had happened. Bit by bit, at least.

It was obvious Madara had used one of the pre-drawn chakra suppression seals - as he became more aware of his body, Tobirama could feel the odd void on his back, and the way his chakra refused to come to heed - locked beneath the surface of his skin. That would need to come off soon - his sensor abilities were completely locked away like this, and even though he was in pain and dealing with a splitting migraine, being cut off was making him antsy. Even if it was necessary.

It appeared that aspect of the seal worked at the very least, though maybe a little too well. Tobirama knew there was going to be a risk of being overwhelmed when he started designing the thing in the first place, he just… hadn't accounted for how  _ much _ he would be overwhelmed. He shuddered at the thought of trying it again, and decided to wait at least a few days. Maybe next time, he would only feed the seal a tiny bit of chakra, turn it on gradually instead of all at once. Which in hindsight was what he should've done in the first place.

Tobirama let out a breath and clenched his eyes shut, and pressed his cheek down against Madara's thigh. That action made him very much aware of how the Uchiha's chakra had felt, amplified as it had been by the seal, and suddenly Tobirama's mouth felt very dry.

He swallowed thickly. He hadn't been able to feel anything through it - had Madara consciously used his chakra to try and drown everything out? Had he known just what exactly had been overwhelming him? 

He wanted to ask, but at the same time he was… embarrassed. That was odd. Tobirama rarely had anything to be embarrassed about, but… remembering the feel of that chakra smothering him, the heat and the scent and the heady power that had encassed his body, it had been…

Overwhelming. 

_ Arousing _ , a traitorous thought slipped on through. And Tobirama viciously smothered that thought, because  _ no _ , he was  _ not _ going to think about that now. He wasn't going to think about that  _ at all,  _ thank you very much.

The petting of his hair was now very distracting, and was going from soothing to maybe stressing him out just the tiniest bit considering where it kept dragging his mind too. He was feeling a tad too warm, and suddenly he very much needed to put some distance between himself and Madara -  _ now _ .

If only his body would cooperate.

Tobirama bit back a groan as he lifted his head and shuffled away from the Uchiha. Getting his legs underneath him so he could push himself up was a trial, and Madara was there once again, a hand hooking around his bicep and pulling him up onto unsteady legs.

His head spun and the pain spiked a little, but thankfully his stomach didn’t lurch and he was able to keep his feet underneath him. He shifted his weight away from Madara and onto the bench with a sigh, and scrubbed his hand down his face. He didn’t look at Madara. “... Thank you. For that.”   
  
“Do you mind telling me just  _ what _ happened? And why you refuse to go to Hashirama?” He said in return, voice gruff. A small part of Tobirama thought that, just maybe,  _ he _ might be a tad bit embarrassed as well. But he didn’t have the spoons to check. Somewhere along the way, his glasses had disappeared. 

Tobirama let out a sigh and sank down on his abandoned stool, his legs shaking just a tad too obviously. “It was… overwhelming. Safe to say that the amplification aspect of it worked, but it was just… too much, too fast. Next time I try, I’ll see about feeding it a trickle of chakra first, so it isn’t… immediately overwhelming.”

He finally gave into the urge to look at the Uchiha, even though all his sight offered him was a vague pale and black blur. “... What you did with your chakra, at the end. It helped block everything out.” He swallowed his embarrassment and looked away. “Thank you.”

He heard Madara shift a little and exhale loudly. “That’s the second time you’ve thanked me. I’m starting to think that damn thing broke you…” He trailed off, and then continued. “I noticed that it… helped. The other day in the closet. My chakra.”

Tobirama swallowed, the admission sending another spike of hot embarrassment down his spin, and he very much hoped his face was not as red as it felt. He didn’t look at Madara again, and cleared his throat. “Yes. Something so overwhelming and powerful, it is… hard to ignore. Brother used to help when I was younger, his chakra is a lot like yours in that regard, but it has just… been a long while since it was necessary.”

He fell silent, and something seemed to hang in the air between them. Tobirama registered then, that this might actually be the most they’ve spoken without snapping at one another, and that realization just made him feel...Wholly uncomfortable.

And that discomfort was furthered when Madara said, “You take on too much to handle on your own.”

Chargrined, Tobirama turned to Madara and glowered. “Yes, well, as Hashirama’s other advisor,  _ you _ certainly took on your fair share of work, didn’t you?”

He couldn’t discern Madara’s reaction, but Tobirama was pretty sure the elder man bristled, and Tobirama inwardly cursed himself and his sealed chakra, because he hadn’t wanted to reignite that animosity between them once again and couldn’t tell what Madara was feeling because he couldn’t bloody  _ sense a damn thing _ . He scrubbed a shaking hand down his face and let out a breath, once more turning his attention away from him, and murmured, “Apologies. That was uncalled for.” 

There was a sigh, and a resigned sounding, “No, it was very much called for. I really have been remiss in my duties. That is… going to change.” There was a pause, and a quieter, “Things will be different, this time.”

Tobirama frowned and squinted at the man, wondering vaguely what exactly he meant by  _ that _ , and then shook his head with a sigh. “It has… gotten late. And it has been a trying day, for the both of us I imagine.” He’d forgotten for a moment that Madara had spent a good portion of the day likely destroying things. “I think it is both time for us to retire for the night and get some sleep.”   
  
Madara shifted and let out an agreeing hum, and Tobirama turned his back to the elder man - wondered once again why he felt so at ease in doing so - and asked, “The seal - could you remove it?” He could feel Madara’s sudden incredulous stare at his back and snorted. “I feel blind without being able to sense anything. You have my word that I’m going to go right to my bed after this, though. I am… exhausted.”

It was a weakness, admitting that, but really Madara had seen him in much worse states. He heard Madara snort behind him and a moment later felt gloved fingers against his back, brushing against his spine, and he didn’t have the willpower to hold back his shiver at the sensation.

The small piece of paper was peeled away, and Tobirama’s chakra was free once more - instinctively, his senses stretched out, but they didn’t get very far.

Not when Madara was right there, completely, utterly unignorable, his chakra a dark, burning beacon that filled the room like an oppressive blanket of smoke - and Tobirama inhaled sharply, thinking he caught a whiff of that intoxicating scent once more, and he hunched over the bench and tried very,  _ very _ hard to ignore the sudden hot clench of sheer  _ want _ that hit his gut.

_ Oh, _ he realised, staring at the papers scattered across the bench’s surface without seeing them.  _ Oh. This is… unforseen. _

“Senju?” Madara’s deep voice was close, much too close. “... Tobirama? Is it too much? Do I need to-”   
  
“No.” Tobirama cut himself off and stood on shaky legs. “No, I’m  _ perfectly _ fine. Thank you for your assistance Madara. I’m retiring for the night. Have a good evening.”

With as much dignity a he could muster, Tobirama walked from the lab on shaky legs, made his way up the stairs, located his bedroom and collapsed face first onto the mattress. He let out a shivering sigh and pressed his face into the pillow, his attention entirely fixated on Madara’s presence in the basement below. He lingered, emotions hidden, indiscernible amongst the roiling heat of his chakra, and then he slowly ascended the stairs as well. He felt the elder man pause outside of his bedroom for a while, before he made his way out of the house, slipping through the wards with ease. Tobirama registered vaguely that he would need to see how exactly he’d managed that, but that was a problem for another day.

Tobirama clenched his eyes shut and curled onto his side. What a… mess of a day.

 

* * *

 

 

The following few days felt like they were complete  _ torture _ . 

Like a complete coward, Tobirama had taken to avoiding Madara at all costs. It was easy, being a sensor of his calibre, he could feel the Uchiha anywhere in the village - and that in itself was the problem. 

Feeling Madara’s chakra was like an  _ addiction _ . Hashirama’s had been the same - when Tobirama was younger, he’d had to learn to partially block it out so it wasn’t as overwhelmingly distracting, as feeling it in the air on the battlefield could cause him to trip up or miss an enemy coming for him. Having it partially blocked off now was instinctual, but he hadn’t ever thought to do it with Madara’s. Hell, even when they’d been enemies, it hadn’t overly stood out to him too much. Maybe because Madara’s intent had always been directed towards Hashirama, and Tobirama had been entirely focused on keeping himself and his fellow clansmen from dying.

Now, he was… loathe to block it out in the same way he did Hashirama’s. It was entirely  _ inappropriate _ , but he couldn’t help it. Not when it caused his stomach to flutter and churn and his body to heat up in a way he had not experienced before; perhaps it was selfish of him, to want to keep feeling that, but he just… couldn’t help it.

And by the Sage, he most certainly could not look Madara in the face after the incident in the lab. That would lead to even more embarrassment than he was currently feeling.

And as the days passed, Tobirama came to think that Madara  _ knew _ . That he was being avoided, that was. And  _ then _ it seemed like he kept popping up  _ everywhere _ , cornering Tobirama into places he simply could not run away from without giving himself away, and plastering him with ridiculous work related questions that he most  _ certainly _ did not need Tobirama’s input on, or asking for his opinion on  _ this or that  _ proposal, and Tobirama felt like he was going completely, utterly  _ insane _ . 

Madara had to be doing this on purpose. He  _ had to _ . Tobirama was so very,  _ very _ close to saying ‘fuck it’, forgetting about work, and barricading himself in his lab. He would have too, had he found out just  _ how _ exactly Madara had slipped past his wards without triggering anything.

Nowhere -  _ nowhere _ was safe. Tobirama was at his wits end. He couldn’t even sleep well, because as soon as he was prone on his bed his attention drifted to Madara, wherever he happened to be in the village, and he couldn’t  _ not _ think about the feel of his chakra pressed around him and the scent and-

A blessing, a reprieve, arrived in the form of Hashirama offering him a mission.

His elder brother seemed concerned about the state he was in, and Tobirama gave him a half-hearted excuse of work related insomnia causing him to have frazzled nerves. He wasn’t sure Hashirama bought it, but he didn’t pry - instead, he offered a mission that would take him outside of the village.

Away from Madara. For two weeks.

Tobirama very much hoped Hashirama didn’t see how desperate he was when he agreed. Distance would be a complete utter  _ blessing _ and would allow him to maybe sort out his Sage damned feelings without Madara’s ever constant presence looking at his back.

So it was with a small amount of glee (that he would never admit to) that Tobirama selected a team consisting of Hikaku Uchiha (a representative of the Uchiha clan would be necessary, and Hikaku’s chakra had been feeling very stressed lately, so it was likely some time away would do him some good as well) and a few other shinobi of differing clans, and departed Konoha on a diplomatic mission to the Land of Snow. 

And when Konoha was miles away at his back, Tobirama felt like he could finally  _ breathe. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be a bit of an interlude. Im unsure of how long it will be, but it'll be from Madara's perspective, so y'all will finally get some insight into his thoughts ;D
> 
> For reference of Tobi's seals, here's this pic I did when I originally started planning out Amaranthine ahaha - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/181472716536/a-sketch-thats-been-sitting-half-done-for-like
> 
> Also feel free to follow me there, I gush about things at random and draw a lot and sometimes give previews xD


	5. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have Madara's chapter, guys!!! It's a lil shorter than intended but I felt like stretching it would just... not be good lol. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> I haven't replied to comments from the previous chapter yet but I really appreciate all of them!!! I'll try and reply soon <3

> **Madara**

It's with a surprisingly calm head and heart that Madara accepted Hashirama’s offer for drinks.

It was easier, that day. He hadn't had one of those dreams that plagued his thoughts long after waking the night before, and even though his head rang with Hashirama’s very last words for a while afterwards, a large part of him looked forwards to it. Hashirama’s expression had been soft and eager when he'd asked, and then it had evolved into giddy happiness, and seeing that had caused Madara to relax in a small way.

He couldn't remember what happened in the previous timeline. Not clearly, at least. Everything was tinged with bitterness and hatred and loneliness and a sense of betrayal that even now tugged at his heart. He couldn't remember the last time he and Hashirama had simply sat together and talked. The thought of doing so now was… exciting.

He  _ wanted _ to drink with Hashirama. As friends.

He was even able to keep his emotions in check at sight of his old friend. It had been a few days since the Hokage's return to Konoha, and a lot of Madara's thoughts and wayward emotions had been eased by checking on his old friend's stubborn little brother. The flashes of  _ panic-pain-desperation-too much-too much _ stood out in Madara's mind, mirroring his own thoughts upon waking up in this time after expecting death where death was supposed to happen, and finding Tobirama spiralling down a dark hole in that empty supply closet stood out starkly in his mind.

He'd never been a great sensor - better than average he supposed, but nothing like Tobirama. But the emotions were impossible not to feel, shivering through the younger man's chakra and tugging at something in Madara's chest. 

How much had he been blind to, when he left? How much had his eyes glossed over and ignored? Even the flashes of  _ betrayal-rage-Tobirama-killed Izuna-despair _ hadn't been enough to drag him under, and in the end he had wanted to... step up and attempt to help Tobirama. 

And after that, it felt like things had just… slotted into place. It was easy to step into the old role he'd once abandoned and left behind in another life. That he'd neglected. He had wanted to… ease what was weighing down on Tobirama's shoulders, because he recognised that sort of desperation within himself, and wasn't that just downright fucking hilarious? To relate to Tobirama, of all people.

The man was a genius, yet was also a complete, absolute  _ moron _ who needed to learn how to take it fucking easy. He couldn't help the way he began gravitating to the younger man after that, the  _ want-need-eagerness _ helping to override the litany of  _ anger-betrayal-why bother-it doesn't matter  _ that threatened to drown him every waking moment. He'd never taken the time to be around Tobirama, last time, the rage he'd felt too constant and overwhelming, so it was only a logical choice to start changing things by first making sure Tobirama didn't drive himself to insanity.

_ And wasn't that funny, coming from Madara. He knew he wasn't alright, but it was easy to pretend in front of others when he had a goal in mind that he needed to reach. _

There was something about the way Tobirama eased and relaxed in his presence. The way he showed his back to him so readily. The way he allowed Madara to touch him.  _ The vulnerability _ of him curled on the ground and in pain and so weak yet so trusting and Madara could have ever so easily wrapped his hands around that red stained throat and choke the life out of him, like he'd wanted to so much in the past. He could picture it, black leather against pale skin, cheeks turning red and breathless gasps falling from pink lips as he shivered and squirmed and red unseeing eyes glazed over- 

It wasn't good to let those thoughts linger in his mind. It was too easy to get lost in them.

_ He wasn't alright but he was good at pretending. The way Tobirama flinched when the  _ rage-betrayal-anger-sadness-why am I doing this-why _ got the better of him was oddly enough to reign him in. Despite everything,  _ everything _ , he found he didn't enjoy causing Tobirama distress. _

_ He didn’t enjoy it. Even if sometimes, a lot, he still… still wanted to... _

Making sure the stubborn idiot didn't take on too much was now one of Madara's meantime goals as he waited for the opportune moment to set his long term plans into motion. It was the least he could do. He'd missed everything the last time around. Things needed to change, and Madara was going to ensure that they would.

Something Hashirama said suddenly caught his attention.

“Ah? A mission?” he looked at the man beside him, ignoring the flicker of  _ rage-betrayal _ that that was a little easier to ignore. Partially because his attention was now caught on the fact that  _ Tobirama _ was no longer in the village, and that thought sent a sharp stabbing pain through his chest.

He kept his face blank.  “What does that have to do with me?”

Hashirama had a ridiculous smile on his face as he leaned his weight on his elbow, cheek resting against his knuckles. “Well, you've been spending a lot of time with one another, yeah? I thought you might want to know. He's going to be gone for two weeks, if things go as planned. Should be your run of the mill diplomatic mission. The Land of Snow's pretty peaceful. And Hikaku went with him - things will be fine.”

That would explain why he hadn’t seen his fellow clan member for a while. Hikaku had been a great help in clan matters, taking on a good deal of the burden while Madara tried to get his life under control. “You act like I'm worried.”

Hashirama had a stupidly soft look on his face as he observed Madara, cheeks flushed from alcohol. Madara had trouble meeting his gaze, and something like discomfort curled in his gut. “You are. I know you, Madara. You're very easy to read.”

Discomfort curled into something else Madara houldn't identify, and he looked at Hashirama with narrowed eyes and said in an unintentionally disgruntled way, “Get that stupid look off your face. Idiot.”

Hashirama, the child in an adult body, giggled and said with a small trace of glee. “I'm right. You are worried!”

He looked away then, and though the smile remained it shifted into something a little more somber. “I've seen you two together, Madara. You two have been… good. Much better than you used to be. So don't worry. Things will be alright. He'll be back soon.”

Madara looked away as well,  _ discomfort-worry-paranoia-fear _ edging at his mind,  and he downed the remainder of his sake. “Yeah… soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

With Tobirama gone, there was no reason for him to linger in the village. He needed to finally set things in motion and finish what he came here for. And once he was done, then…

Then he would return. Tobirama would be back, and Madara would… remain in the village. He would stay, and he would  _ make _ things better. Ensure that the village did not go down the path it did, and perhaps with his help, no-one would die. With his help… things were going to  _ be better _ .

_ A red moon loomed above him and the god tree wrapped motionless shinobi within its bark and Madara was right, he was winning, there was finally going to be peace. No hatred, no violence, no fighting, no wars, no ninja and no villages. Everything… everything he'd strived for, fought for, died for, was finally settling into place. _

_ But why did he feel so hollow? _

Asking Hashirama for permission to leave was easier than anticipated. His  _ friend _ - _ enemy-betrayer-rival-executioner _ looked at him with suspicion for a moment, before granting it to him with a laugh.

“You're going to come back.” It was said as a statement, but Madara could see the question in Hashirama’s eyes - eyes that had always met his own unflinchingly, and Madara felt his chest clench.

“I am.” He said after a moment and inclined his head, and then left as soon as he was able.

It would take a week at top speed to travel to Mountain's Graveyard. He would set fire to it all and watch as the black flames of Amaterasu destroyed  _ everything. _ The Gedo statue, Zetsu… all of it would cease to exist, and with them out of the way, the world would be… if not at peace, then at the very least out of the hands of a mad goddess.

He pushed every wavering and distracting thought to the back of his mind ( _ Tobirama-Hashirama-Konoha-Tobirama) _ and focused on the mission ahead.

He would not allow himself or anyone else to be manipulated again.

The weight of the Konoha headband was unfamiliar on his forehead as he donned his armor, gathered his scythe and gunbai, and set off. He recalled distantly that he'd never worn it much in his previous life, and it felt…  _ wrong _ , in a way. Like wearing it made him someone other than who he was. Like he was wearing a mask.

But he would endure it. This was  _ him _ now. And this was how he was going to remain.

Time and travel passed in a haze. He encountered no trouble along the way - perhaps the way his chakra roiled and wavered kept any creature and human with any kind of sense out of his path, and Madara was grateful as he wanted to get things over and done with  _ soon _ . 

He passed through the giant bones and trees, a sick pit in his belly. He slipped underground, footsteps hard and frantic. He found the cave-

Nothing. Scorched black walls. Debris. Flakes of white, ash. The statue was nothing but a pile of rubble.

For what felt like a long time, Madara just stood there, his mind a whirl of confusion. Long minutes passed, and finally he began to pick his way through the cave, and cast out every one of his senses to try and pick up  _ something _ , but-

There was nothing. There was no-one. 

Someone had destroyed  _ everything _ before Madara got the chance.

It would seem… Madara wasn’t as alone in this timeline as he’d initially thought.

This was…  _ concerning. _

 

* * *

 

 

Madara made it back to the village in a daze.  _ Who-what-how-why  _ clouded his mind, drowning out the usual mess of feelings and thoughts he felt whilst in the village, and he moved robotically through the streets towards the Hokage tower to report that he was back. He had enough of himself left to do that at the very least - otherwise Hashirama would worry.

But when he entered the building, it was very hard to ignore the way shinobi were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Madara froze in the lobby, frowning darkly when what he assumed was a Yamanaka barreled past him and threw an apology over their shoulder, and the vague stirrings of curiosity slipped past the litany of  _ who-what-how-why. _

Had something happened? 

He debated flagging down one of the scurrying shinobi but thought better of it and instead made his way to Hashirama’s office. He could feel the Hokage there, chakra an agitated mess of  _ worry-anger _ , and that piqued Madara’s intrigue. Hashirama had always been hard to ruffle, so something  _ definitely _ must have happened.

Oddly enough though, he couldn’t feel Tobirama at all. While not overly concerning, it was enough to cause Madara’s agitation to spike - just a little bit.

Hashirama's head jerked up from where he was slumped over a map, several other shinobi mimicking the motion when Madara threw the door open. Something flickered on his face -  _ hope-dejection-worry-fear -  _ Madara recognised, and the Hokage stood quickly. “Madara - you’re back. Good. Close the door behind you.”

Madara’s eyes narrowed. He kicked the door shut behind him and strode forwards, ignoring the way the other shinobi present watched him warily. They were nothing, no-one he recognised other than a cousin of Hashirama and Tobirama, so he focused his attention on Hashirama. “What happened?”

Hashirama scrubbed a hand down his face. A sign of weakness,  _ worry-fear-anger _ in his eyes. His voice was hard when he spoke. “Tobirama hasn’t returned. All contact with the Land of Snow has ceased. All signs point towards he and his squad having walked right into a trap.”

Madara stopped breathing.

All he could see was Tobirama - pale back bared to him, streaked with red ink. His trembling body curled in pain, face flushed and breath coming in short gasps. His head pillowed on Madara’s thigh, silver strands soft in his ungloved hand.

_ Sick pleasure coursed through him at seeing Tobirama pinned to the ground, black rods piercing reanimated flesh and armour. He was so pliant, immobile, at his mercy, and it was all that he deserved after  _ everything-

He was moving out of the room before Hashirama could say another word.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so - art!
> 
> Here's a better way to read the comic - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/182471877076/chapter-5-is-up-read-on-ao3
> 
> And here is something of a.... spoiler :"""D so be warned if you don't want to be spoiled a wee bit lol - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/182369539481/a-sort-of-preview-of-whats-to-come-in


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is alright, I had a bit of trouble writing it aah;;; Im sorry if there are any mistakes!

“You should just… Leave me, Lord Tobirama…”

Hikaku's weight was heavy against his back, his voice thready and thin in Tobirama's ear, and he let out a faint snort and adjusted the hold he had on the Uchiha's legs. “Don't be ridiculous. How do you think Madara would react if I were to allow one of his clansmen to die under my watch?”

There was a weak chuckle, and it was worrying to hear - he hadn't been able to properly stop Hikaku’s bleeding, hadn't been able to stop  _ at all _ to properly dress their wounds, and the Uchiha was rapidly losing blood.

If Tobirama didn't find shelter from the snow soon… their pursuers wouldn't need to track them down to kill them.

“He wouldn't blame you… for this…” Hikaku mumbled against Tobirama's neck, too weak to keep his head up. “This situation is… ‘tierly out of your control.”

“Oh he'd still find a way to blame me.” It wouldn't do good for Hikaku to waste his strength speaking, but Tobirama needed to keep hearing him - to ensure that he was still alive. Even if that meant talking about Madara.

He was regretting agreeing to this mission. Having his nerves frayed by Madara's presence was much preferable to being trapped and hunted down by enemy shinobi.

He didn't understand why or what they wanted. A disguised diplomatic mission hiding a trap, their enemy not the feudal lord but instead ninja from a clan Tobirama knew to be native to this land. And Tobirama hadn't suspected a  _ damn thing _ until they managed to wipe out the majority of his squad in the blink of an eye and trap them within a barrier miles wide that they could not escape from.

He could only see white - all around him, white ground, white sky, white falling from the sky. He had a feeling even someone with perfect eyesight would have trouble navigating this mass of white. His sensing abilities only worked within the boundaries of the barrier that was keeping them trapped, and he couldn't risk using his new experimental seal to try and sense any further. He couldn't afford it. 

Not with Hikaku bleeding out on his back.

Finally, Tobirama saw  _ something _ . A mass of rock looming above them, a wall of dark grey amongst the white. The Senju felt a surge of relief, because if that was a mountain or hell, even just a large wall of rocks, there was a chance there was an alcove they could stop in and hide out for a bit. To rest. And Tobirama would be able to see to Hikaku’s injuries properly.

Tobirama stumbled on in a haze, talking every few minutes and attempting to get Hikaku to reply. The Uchiha did so, but his answers grew more mumbled and faint as more time passed - and finally, Tobirama found an opening.

It was small - he was barely able to fit in the both of them, and Tobirama had to crouch to avoid hitting his head. The opening was more like a crack than a cave, but it would do.

He set Hikaku down and swiped a finger through the dried wound on his head - reopening it a bit, but he got the blood he needed. Around the opening he drew a seal, and with the tiniest spark of chakra it activated - it would hide their scent and chakra signatures from any shinobi not gifted in sensing, to which Tobirama knew could be a fruitless endeavor because he had no idea of the full range of abilities their enemy had, but for now it would buy them some time. 

Once he was sure the seal was working properly, Tobirama crouched down beside the injured Uchiha, ignoring the way the world spun a little, and pressed a glowing green hand to his injured side. Tobirama could perform basic medical ninjutsu, but this…

This was beyond what he could fix. If he had more resources available then maybe, but…

“What’s… that expression for?” Hikaku rasped. Tobirama’s head jerked and he let out a steadying breath, and focused his attention back on the wound. He could at the very least try and close the wound. Stopping the bleeding would give Hikaku a greater chance of surviving. “You look like… you’ve tasted something unpleasant, Lord Tobirama.”

“... Your injuries are very severe.” Tobirama murmured. It wouldn’t do to sugarcoat things. “Several broken ribs, your abdominal muscles and skin have been torn to shreds, your arm is dislocated and… something is wrong with your left thigh. A fracture, I think. If I can stop the bleeding, then…”

“Then I’ll be right as rain. Just… gotta fix everything else a-after.” The Uchiha let out a relieved breath and closed his eyes. “Think you can do it?”

“I am unsure.” It hurt to admit that, because Tobirama  _ wanted _ to be sure. “But I will try.” He paused. “Wouldn’t want Madara to think I let this happen, after all.”

Hikaku let out a weak snort. “You’re… awfully focused on Lord Madara. Starting to think you a-actually  _ care _ about… what he thinks of you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The chakra Tobirama was filtering into the Uchiha was slowly - steadily - doing its work. The fighting and lack of rest had him running dangerously low, but if he had enough for this… “I just don’t want another reason for him to loathe me.”

“He doesn’t.” Hikaku wheezed. He’d creaked an eye open and watched Tobirama with a hazy, unfocused gaze. “Hate you, I mean.”

Tobirama snorted at that, even though his stomach churned a little. In the back of his mind, he knew that with the way Madara had been… acting around him recently made it difficult to apply the emotion ‘hate’ to, but even still… After everything…

“I killed Izuna.” Tobirama said bluntly, and Hikaku stilled, both eyes open, watching Tobirama carefully. The Senju couldn’t meet his gaze and instead just focused on the bloody wounds he was trying so desperately to heal. “Regardless of the fact that it was war, that it boiled down to it being either him or me… I killed Madara’s little brother. His last sibling. No matter the full range of Madara’s feelings towards me, a part of him will always,  _ always _ hate me for killing his little brother.”

Hikaku was silent at that, and Tobirama tried to just focus on directing the healing chakra to do what it needed to, to focus on the situation at hand, but his mind kept circling back around to his own words.

Madara had been so kind to him. He had helped him with his panic attack, his eyes, tried to keep an even temper around him. He had helped with the seal, helped with the aftermath. Didn't pick a fight, didn't provoke. There hadn't been a single trace of antagonistic feeling towards Tobirama amongst his dark, powerful chakra.

But Tobirama knew he was right. Even if it was simply buried deep down, a part of Madara hated him. 

It… hurt. To know that.

Tobirama let out a low, angry snarl and pushed more chakra into his hands. He wouldn't give Madara another reason to hate him. Not again.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure when, exactly, he began to care about what Madara thought of him. The man was battle hungry, animalistic in his intensity, loud and brash, and they would never,  _ ever _ get along. 

If Tobirama hadn’t killed Izuna, maybe things would have been different. 

He never paid too much attention to that line of thought. The past was the past, and nothing could be done to change it, it was better to focus on the present and pave the way for a good future. 

Now though, as Tobirama huddled up against a shivering, bandaged Hikaku, under a roughspun blanket pulled from a storage scroll and trying to get some rest as they waited for either the snowstorm outside to settle or their location to be found - Tobirama found himself wondering ‘what if?’

What if he hadn’t killed Izuna? What if Tobirama hadn’t been so stubborn and had instead helped Hashirama in his efforts to make peace with the Uchiha? Would he have ever gotten along with the Uchiha brothers? Become friends with them? Would he and Madara…

Tobirama didn’t do relationships. He didn’t… get along with people. Not very well. He prefered to keep his own company, the only presence he truly enjoyed for more than a few hours at a time was Hashirama’s. The thought of spending enough time to actually form  _ some _ semblance of a relationship with someone outside of his family seemed like a waste - time would better be spent working in his lab on a new jutsu, or working out a way to help the village run more smoothly. Any kind of sexual need or release could easily be sated by his own hands.

Besides, in their youth, Hashirama had slept around enough for the  _ both _ of them. There was a time where Tobirama was surprised there weren’t any illegitimate children hounding the Hokage for money for their silence.

But with Madara…

They had always rubbed each other the wrong way. Tobirama knew Madara’s hostility towards him stemmed from the death of his brother, and Tobirama was hostile in return because he  _ knew  _ that Madara was  _ dangerous _ . He also just happened to rub Tobirama the wrong way. Recently though, Madara’s hostility had been absent. And in return, Tobirama began to feel… 

Like he actually…  _ liked _ Madara. There was more feeling than what could be summed up into ‘liked’ but Tobirama was hesitant to delve into what those feelings could be. The man was handsome, he was powerful, he was more intelligent than he let on, he was passionate, and by the Sage his chakra was…

Even huddled up against Hikaku as he was, trying to protect himself from the cold, Tobirama shuddered at the memory. 

In a perfect world, where Izuna had lived and Senju and Uchiha clans made peace, and they established a village without any further bad blood between them… Would there have, perhaps, been a chance that he and Madara could have been… 

Hikaku coughed, pulling Tobirama from his thoughts. It was a ragged, wet sound, and Tobirama pressed a hand to the Uchiha’s ribs, fearing the worst. Had one of the ribs pierced his lung? That was most  _ definitely  _ something he wouldn’t be able to fix, in this situation it was a guaranteed death sentence -

His scan showed nothing. Just… just a cough. Hikaku didn’t even wake up, just shifted a little in his sleep with a pained mumble.

Tobirama slumped and ran a shaking hand through his hair, wincing as he pulled at the wound on his scalp. He’d meant to heal it properly, as well as the few other scrapes and cuts that he’d managed to get, but in the end he’d used up what remained of his chakra on trying to heal Hikaku.

Tobirama was tired. Not mentally, not like he had been due to the stress and heavy workload of trying to keep a village up and running, but physically. Spiritually. Tobirama hadn’t bordered this close to chakra exhaustion since the Uchiha and the Senju were still at war, and Sage but holed up like this - unsafe, danger just around the corner… it was bringing back bad memories.

The Senju let out a shuddering breath, and prayed to the Sage - to whatever Gods existed - that they would remain hidden. Just a little longer. Just long enough for them to rest. As he was now, he couldn’t expend any of his chakra, nor could he risk activating the seal. A part of him  _ hoped _ that Hashirama realised what had gone wrong and had sent backup, but that…

To hope for something like that was foolish. Impractical. The only way they would be able to get out of this situation for sure would be to locate the anchoring points for the barrier seal and destroy them. But with the amount of Ninja after them, and likely guarding the anchor points…

Tobirama bit his thumbnail, trying to  _ focus _ .

But he was so tired. It was hard to think. His mind kept drifting back to  _ Madara. _

_ Madara, Madara, Madara…. _

Tobirama closed his eyes. He needed to… needed to rest…

 

* * *

 

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Tobirama gave a start. A kunai was in his hand in an instant, but it was only Hikaku - the Uchiha looked to be more alert, dark eyes fixated on the entrance of their tiny hideout, and Tobirama didn’t relax.

He could hear it in the distance. Voices. The sound of a dog barking - a ninja hound.

They were found out.

Tobirama let out a breath and met Hikaku’s eyes. He tilted his head, and Hikaku grimaced and shook his head, and Tobirama bit back a hiss of agitation. Hikaku wasn’t in any state to fight.

He would have to take care of this his own.

“Leave me and go.” Hikaku breathed, expression determined.  He shifted, wincing in pain, and pulled out something from one of his back supply pouches. Tobirama squinted in the dim light, registering a piece of paper - a seal? “At the very least I can… can distract them. Take a few down.”

Ah. A paper bomb.Tobirama shook his head. “No. No, we’re  _ both _ going to get out of this.”   
  
He ignored Hikaku’s hissed protests - he really was quite adept at blocking out Uchiha’s and their ire - and gathered up his dwindled chakra. The seal hiding them would hide minal chakra usage, but it was a risk with those ninja so close…

A risk Tobirama needed to take.

The world lit up around him, and Tobirama closed his eyes and stretched out his senses. It was like a weight lifted off of his shoulders, and he could finally  _ see _ . The drain pulled on his reserves and left him breathless, but he pushed through it and tried to  _ focus _ .

There were… three shinobi and a hound. A couple hundred or so metres to the south. And they were getting close. 

And there were more, close by. Three more groups, fanning out in search of them. If Tobirama were to clash with this group then there was no doubt that it would draw the attention of the others. Tobirama bit the inside of his cheek. He could either do nothing and take the chance that they would not be found, which was a bleak hope due to the hound with the nearby group, or… 

He could meet the group head on. Try and take them down before the others were alerted. Give him even the slightest upper hand.

… Well. There was nothing to it, then.

Tobirama slowly climbed to his feet, hunching so he didn’t bash his head into the overhanging rock. Hikaku had fallen silent, and watched Tobirama with dark, desperate eyes, and the Senju shot him the barest bones of a smile, before stepping towards the entrance.

Only to freeze.

There was something, flickering at the barest edges of his sensory range. Something dark, something that was moving at the speed of a shinobi. The chakra was so loud and hot, growing more and more bright like a powerful beacon, and Tobirama's breath caught in his throat.

It… it couldn't be. 

“Lord Tobirama?”

Tobirama didn't acknowledge him. He couldn't. He was overcome then, with such a knee weakening wave of relief, he had to slump against the rock wall as his legs buckled. His lips curled into a savage grin, and he turned to the Injured Uchiha. “It’s… it’s Madara. It would appear reinforcements have arrived.”

Hikaku's reply was lost as Tobirama retreated inwards, focusing on the chakra signatures that flickered within his range. He had no idea how he had managed to slip through the barrier - it was still up, restricting his range to only a little beyond the barriers walls - but he could feel that dark, powerful chakra roiling with emotion.

Madara was angry. No, no just angry… utterly  _ enraged. _

His presence blocked out one of the groups of enemy shinobi. He stilled for a moment, then continued on, and those enemy shinobi's signatures had ceased to exist. He was taking down whatever enemy he happened across, cutting them down within a matter of seconds, and Tobirama felt his heart in his throat. 

Madara was alone, from what he could tell. If he had anyone with him, then their presence was masked by Madara's chaotic, powerful chakra. It was stupid if he came alone. But at that moment, Tobirama found he couldn't focus on what was and wasn't a smart course of action.

He swore… swore he could smell burnt cinnamon. And flowers. He still couldn't determine what kind.

It caused his stomach to churn with a sudden  _ need. _

Tobirama let out a breath. Madara was still too - too far away, and he wasn't a sensor. He wouldn't be able to track down their exact location unless Tobirama signalled him, and he just - didn't have enough chakra for that. Neither did Hikaku. 

But if he… if he used the seal, amplified what little chakra he had left, he could…

Doing so would definitely draw the attention of the nearby enemy shinobi. He would be utterly useless and unable to fight. But…

If he could control it. If he could keep his head, then maybe - just  _ maybe _ he'd be able to hold out until Madara arrived.

It was a risk he was willing to take.

There was a scuffle behind him, and Hikaku managed to get to his feet, his face a mask of determination. Ignoring the injuries, willing to fight as well, his sharingan blazing, and Tobirama met his gaze without fear.

“I'm going to signal him.” He said softly. His hand crept towards the seal hiding their presence. “It's going to leave me defenseless. I may not be of any help.”

Hikaku let out a breath. “Do what you need to do.”

Tobirama closed his eyes. One hand gripped a kunai, hard. The other pressed against the edge of the seal, and after an anchoring breath, he smudged at the symbol and channeled a thin trickle of chakra towards the seals marking his skin.

The world around him exploded in a flash of colour and sensation, and Tobirama fell to his knees.

 

* * *

 

The enemies were close. Their chakras were boiling and foul, tinged with the glee of the hunt, and they zeroed in on his location in a matter of seconds. His ally, weak and in pain but bright and determined and brimming with the need to defend was able to move and engage two of them, leaving the other two to target him. One tasted human, of sweat and blood, the other of animal, feral and hungry.

He moved on instinct. It hurt. His head spiked with pain and his body was tired, but focusing on these enemies helped.

As did that dark, dark presence, which had changed course and was now speeding towards them. It churned and bubbled,  _ anger-desperation-need _ spiking through it, and he laughed because in the wake of all of that  _ emotion _ he knew nothing would survive.

He wanted that Chakra with him again. He wanted it to press against him, wrap around him, he wanted to breath in that  _ cinnamon-flame-flower-ash-dark-death _ and never feel anything else again, and he called out to it as desperately as he could - urging it to move faster, to come to him and claim him-

A streak of hot air passed his cheek as he dodged. The  _ feral-hungry _ one tried to attack while his attention was divided, but it was too slow. Everything felt too slow to him, save for that approaching chakra. But though everything else was too slow, he couldn’t move his weary body well enough to keep dodging.  _ Feral-hungry _ leapt again, and he lashed out with his weapon, feeling the way it sunk into soft fur and hot flesh and burning wet coated his hand but he paid it no mind as  _ feral-hungry  _ fell and its presence vanished all together. 

That left two remaining enemies. His  _ bright-determined _ ally had managed to take down one, but was now motionless and their presence was fading. He hissed, enraged, because he  _ couldn’t let them fade _ and he crouched down, feeding him what remaining energy he had left because  _ they could not fade _ and he could risk it because now-

Now they were safe because  _ cinnamon-flame-flower-ash-dark-death-ANGER  _ was pressing in around them and their enemies chakra was now mixing with  _ fear-confusion _ . 

And there was a sound that penetrated through his haze of colour and sensation, one that had his stomach churning in want and fear. A laugh that raised the hair on the back of his neck, and he raised his head up, facing the cold warmth of the sun shining down on him, and breathed.

Cinnamon coated the tip of his tongue, and Tobirama laughed along with him.

Madara had arrived.

Tobirama hit the ground hard, blank eyes staring unseeingly up at the blazing blue of a giant made of fire and bone as the sound of mad laughter rang in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No art for this chapter sadly, but here is my Amaranthine playlist!! All the songs I feel work very well for this fic. Particularly Almost Easy and Shattered God for Madara ;) 
> 
> http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/181900840941/via


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